


We don't go to hell, the memories of us do

by Derry Rain (smakibbfb)



Series: The Terror Hip Bingo [1]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25990573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smakibbfb/pseuds/Derry%20Rain
Summary: Hickey isn't one to back down from a challenge.
Relationships: Cornelius Hickey/Lt John Irving
Series: The Terror Hip Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886383
Kudos: 18





	We don't go to hell, the memories of us do

**Author's Note:**

> Self-indulgent ficlets to get me back to writing. I put The Tragically Hip on shuffle and rapidly write ficlets based on the songs that come up.
> 
> Song: Inevitability of Death
> 
>  _Fantastic gap, common space  
>  Open concept in your smiling face  
> We don't go to hell the memories of us do  
> And if you go to hell I'll still remember you_  
>  _But I thought you beat the death of inevitability to death just a little bit_  
>  I thought you beat the death of inevitability to death just a little bit

Irving stops, still and straight-backed, an almost imperceptible stiffening of the spine as Hickey calls out to him. Almost, of course, for someone who isn’t watching him intently, which Hickey most assuredly is. Has been doing for some time now.

“Mr Hickey,” he grinds out between clenched teeth.

Hickey steps towards him, an insouciant dawdle which might have caused one of the other lieutenants, Little certainly, Hodgson, perhaps, to roll their eyes, and snap at him. But not Irving. Not Irving, who has barely turned his face to look at him. Who has been pointedly avoiding him since the lashing. Hickey smiles.

“I wanted you to know, Lieutenant, that I have put great thought into what you said.” He pauses. “You know, since…” Hickey affects a shy, regretful trail off, though he keeps his eyes sharp and fixed on Irving. He counts in his head until the lieutenant turns fully towards him. He doesn’t have to count long. Pink and red flecks dot across Irving’s cheeks, and Hickey is fairly certain they aren’t all from the cold.

“You have.” Irving says at last. It’s a question, but it doesn’t sound like the lieutenant is aiming it quite at him. His shoulders sag a little. “I am glad.”

Hickey takes another step. “Not the bit about watercolours,” he adds. He’s fully in Irving’s space now, locks gaze with the other man. Irving meets his gaze steadily, and it’s a small fight to suppress the curl of his lip with impressed delight. “The bit about God seeing me here.” He brushes a stray lock of hair from his eyes, and lets the back of his hand graze the lieutenant’s sleeve. “The bit about this place being the best place to repair myself.”

“Go on,” Irving says. Hickey tilts his head.

“You see, I don’t think I am broken, lieutenant.” Hickey’s hand darts forward, he wraps thin fingers around Irving’s sleeve, which tighten as the lieutenant instinctively draws back. Irving stills. “And I think God knows that better than you do.”

Irving’s pulse is gratifyingly quick beneath Hickey’s fingers. “What do you want, Mr Hickey?”

“I am no seducer, Lieutenant Irving, and no devil neither.” He leans in, knows that Irving can feel his breath on his face. The lieutenant does not move. “But I think I might be a more honest man than you. And my other sins… you all stood there and watched them be purged from me.”

His lips brush Irving’s, and Hickey can feel the tremble in Irving’s skin. He smiles again as he presses in, raises his other hand to rest lightly on the lieutenant’s cheek. It is a moment, but only a moment before he can feel Irving respond, lean in, and return the kiss like he is chasing an absolution Hickey knows he can offer, if only he chose. The power in the gentle pressure could be intoxicating; and when Irving’s hands fall to Hickey’s hips, he lets it.

When Hickey draws away, Irving’s eyes are still closed. Hickey’s thumb rubs, almost gently, over the veins at his wrist.

“So which of us, Lieutenant Irving, do you think God is looking at more closely now?”


End file.
